


A Fate That Befell Me

by vverra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Pray For Piett, but again just a little!, everyone goes on an unexpected camping trip, just a little, sunshine luke needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vverra/pseuds/vverra
Summary: Set after ESB, Vader finally manages to catch up with his son after Bespin, but pirates and ship crash threaten everything he has been working toward for years.Or not. Perhaps it gives everyone the chance to do something that would have helped them from the start: to talk.
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 197
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Luke & Vader Winter Exchange





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BloodyDemonWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyDemonWitch/gifts).



> This is a gift for [BloodyBemonWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyDemonWitch/pseuds/BloodyDemonWitch)
> 
> When I read through the prompts and tropes you selected, I was so pumped because they were all things I loved to read too! I was excited to write this story :)  
> I used a bunch of stuff you suggested, such as 'Pray for Piett, 'Vader hunting down Luke,' 'someone is close to death,' and the prompt 'I will always be by your side'  
> This is my first time being apart of a gift fic-exchange, and I was really excited to be apart of it! I hope you like it! :)

I.

As far as days went, Luke was having a pretty shitty one, even by his standards. 

“Keep up, young one,” his father said, tugging on the cable that secured Luke’s bound wrists to his utility belt. Luke stumbled, but kept pace. There was nothing else for him to do.

He thought wistfully about his X-Wing on the other side of the planet and wondered idly if he was fast enough to outrun his father should he manage to get his binders off and escape. That armour had to weigh him down and Luke had always been faster than most. It was a desperate thought, but perhaps it would work?

“I would not attempt to run,” his father said, answering the question Luke hadn’t said aloud. “You would succeed in nothing but delaying the inevitable and most likely getting yourself unnecessary injured in the process.”

Luke huffed. “Are you reading my mind?”

“I hardly need to. You are projecting so loud anyone with an ounce of Force sensitivity would be able to guess your intentions.” He didn’t turn around, but his father tilted his helmet slightly to throw a question over his shoulder, “did your Jedi Master teach you nothing of shielding?”

“He did,” Luke snapped indignantly, trying to wrangle his shields tighter around his mind. In an instant he felt the familiar dark, icy presence of his father in his head. With the ease of swatting a fly, he knocked down Luke’s shields and stepped over the rubble. Luke strained in an attempt to push him out. It didn’t work, but he did manage to at least halt his father’s assault on his mind, stopping him in his tracks, and keeping him at an arm’s length. 

In the forest, his father hadn’t even stuttered in his quickly set pace, but Luke found himself stumbling from the combined effort of keeping his father out and watching the ground where he was walking. Luke tripped over his feet, and was sent careening into his father’s back. 

Luckily, he managed to catch himself before the collision. His father stopped and looked at Luke as he righted himself. 

“It seems you are not completely abysmal at creating a shield, but if you cannot even walk and keep your shields up, then you lack the ability to withstand a physical and mental assault from an experienced Force user. We will have to correct this with time.” His father began walking again with no more to say on the matter, tugging Luke along.

Luke followed, more sullen than before after the insult to his training. He could concede that shielding wasn’t his strongest asset, but not for lack of practice. Every day during his meditations he practiced building, tearing down, and rebuilding his mental shields, but that was all he could do- all he had been taught to do on his own. Without Yoda, Luke had no one else to practice with. There weren’t really an abundance of Force sensitives on a rebel base he could ask to push and prod at his mind to help him learn to make it more secure. 

_ We will correct this with time. _

Why did that thought fill him with both dread and excitement?

They walked only a little further through the forest before a clearing opened up around them. A sleek, nondescript Imperial shuttle sat in the center. As they approached, the loading ramp lowered. 

Luke was surprised to see a man walk swiftly down the ramp. 

“Lord Vader,” the Admiral (if the insignia bars on his chest were correct) said, bowing before his father. “I see your mission was successful.”

“Admiral Piett,” his father replied, “By the will of the Force it was. We are leaving immediately to rejoin with the fleet. Prepare the shuttle.”

“Of course, my Lordship. As you wish it.”

Admiral Piett saluted sharply and quickly turned to go back up the shuttle ramp. 

Luke watched him go with mild amusement. He had heard of the almost reverent way his father’s men regarded him, but it was even more overdramatic to witness in person.

“Luke, come.”

“As you wish it,” Luke mimicked, “my  _ Lordship. _ ”

Even through the helmet, he knew his father was giving him an unimpressed glare. Luke just smiled cheekily in return. 

“Enough of your cheek,” his father said, waving a gloved finger in Luke’s face, “get on the ship.” 

Luke continued to smile, but a sharp push in the Force sent him on his way up and into the ship, his father close behind him. 

The ship was small inside, but nice. Luke had never been inside an Imperial shuttle before. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go, whether his father planned to place him in a detainment cell or let him stay in the passenger lounge. 

But as soon as the loading ramp closed, his father detached Luke’s binders from his belt, but didn’t release the binders themselves. 

“You may roam freely so long as you do not try to escape. Should you try, our Admiral will pay for your rebellion with his life.”

Well, that answered his question. Luke was allowed to roam the ship so long as he did not try to escape. He hadn’t planned on it at the moment, but now with the Admiral’s life in his hands, Luke had no choice and his father knew that.

Luke let his feet carry him to the cockpit so he could examine the navigation system, something he loved to do in ships he was unfamiliar with. 

_ Always a mechanic, _ Han used to say whenever he geeked out over a new ship. Luke felt a pang in his chest over the thought of his dear friend. 

As he neared the cockpit, he stood in the doorway and watched Admiral Piett work on prepping the ship for take off.

“Is that a V-17 advanced targeting computer?” Luke asked, stepping into the cockpit to get a closer look at the rare, expensive piece of equipment.

Piett, who hadn’t heard his approach, jumped up at the sound of Luke’s voice, his face a mask of shock.

“Sorry,” Luke said, holding up his still bound hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

That didn’t seem to placate the Admiral at all. 

“How did you escape Lord Vader,” Piett asked, his eyes wide and already reaching for his blaster.

“I didn’t,” Luke explained. “He didn’t say I had to stay in the passenger lounge, so I decided to explore-”

“Passenger lounge? Young man, you should be in a detainment cell!”

“I’m not sure that’s necessary. Where am I going to go on this ship? Out the garbage chute?” 

His attempt at levity did nothing to reassure Piett that he was not, in fact, attempting to take over the ship. If anything, the man looked more on edge now. 

“I can go back-,” Luke tried, taking a step back the way he came, but he felt himself collide with something large and hard before he’d managed more than a step. 

Luke knew it was his father before he even turned his head up to smile ruefully at him. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. 

HIs father ignored him (like usual), and turned his attention on the Admiral who was now standing military straight, a hand to his forehead in salute. 

“Is there a problem, Admiral Piett?” His father asked, slowly. 

The man looked between Luke and his father with obvious confusion. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but should the prisoner not be in a detainment cell where he cannot escape?” 

Luke looked back to his father, silently begging him to not to do that.

“I have Luke’s word that he will not escape,” his father explained to the Admiral’s dubious expression. “He knows that if he tries, many lives will be lost in the process, perhaps including yours Admiral and he is too much a  _ Jedi _ to allow that to happen.”

The Admiral gulped and nodded, taking Luke’s father’s word for it but still looking incredibly confused about the whole thing. 

Luke figured that was reasonable. How often was it that Darth Vader spent years searching for a single person, having the person escape him several times, but then allowing them to roam free on his ship after being caught. It was a conundrum for anyone who didn’t know the details, and it seemed that Piett did not, no matter how much his father trusted him. 

Plus, his father was right. If his escape meant the lives of many, including the Admiral, who, despite it all, Luke found himself liking, then he would stay prisoner to his father. Whatever that meant. 

“Luke, find a seat in the passenger lounge. We are taking off.”

Luke did as he was told and quickly strapped himself in. He wondered idly as he felt the ship being its ascension, what his father planned on doing once they reached his Star Destroyer. In their reluctant game of cat and mouse over the years, they had never discussed an actual plan for what  _ ‘join me and I will complete your training’  _ actually meant besides the implication that Luke would fall to the Dark Side, something he resolutely planned on not doing. Every other time Luke had been captured, he had managed some miraculous escape and avoided his father another day. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pull that off this time. 

As he felt the ship reach cruising altitude, Luke found he disliked being alone in the passenger lounge. Something deep in him was pulling him toward the cockpit, toward his father. Luke didn’t fight it.

This time when he entered the cockpit, no one turned to look at him, although he was sure at least his father had registered his presence. 

Luke stood behind his father’s chair and looked out the windscreen into the inky blackness of space. 

“Where’s your Star Destroyer? Are we not rejoining your fleet?” Luke asked.

It was silent as both occupants ignored him. 

He tried again.

“Once we get wherever we’re going, can you send someone to retrieve my X-Wing? I made a lot of modifications on that thing. I hate the thought of it rusting away on that planet.” 

Silence again.

“Is there at least food on this thing? I haven’t eaten since before I left to make this journey.”

Now he was just talking to see if he could get anything out of his suddenly mute companions. Piett surprised him by speaking up.

“You are right, my Lord, he does talk a lot.”

Luke couldn’t cross his arms with his hands still in binders but he huffed loudly to make his annoyance known. He could feel the amusement rolling off his father. 

“Ha ha very funny.”

“We are rendezvousing with my fleet in the next system over. Admiral Piett and I needed to arrive discreetly so as not to warn you of our arrival.”

“Smart,” Luke conceded. “I was definitely caught off guard.”

“As for your X-Wing, perhaps it can-”

But his father didn’t get to finish that thought before alarms started blaring. 

Around them, small fighter ships were appearing out of nowhere and immediately started firing on them. They weren’t Rebels or Imperials. Luke didn’t recognize the ships at all. 

“Admiral Piett, prepare the jump to hyperspace! Luke, go strap yourself in!” His father commanded, beginning to quickly flip switches. 

But Luke’s feet were rooted to the ship floor. 

“Who are they?” Luke asked, as their ship tipped dangerously to the left with the force of being hit by a shot.

“Pirates,” his father answered, tersely, swinging the ship so quickly that Luke almost lost his balance and went flying into the wall. 

“Pirates? What do they want?” 

“Most likely nothing” Piett barked from his spot in front of the hyperspace coordinator, “except to blow us from the sky!”

“Luke! I said go strap yourself in!” His father yelled, sending a push at Luke through the Force. 

And as much as Luke wanted to comply, the ship was now rocking so hard under the weight of the pirate’s attack, that it was almost impossible to walk. Luke was barely hanging on to the back of his father’s chair. 

“I-,” he began, but Piett cut him off.

“Sir, we’ve lost both rear shields and they’re focusing their attack on our thrusters! We won’t survive a jump to hyperspace if we get hit much more!”   


Luke could feel his father’s anger burning brightly through the Force. He was livid, but not about the danger he was in himself- he was furious that the pirates were putting Luke’s life at risk. 

He felt the familiar dark tendrils of his father’s presence surround him, pulling Luke close to him. 

“Sir, the thrusters! Without them, we’ll be pulled back into the planet’s gravitational pull.”

His father was furiously silent as he tried to wrangle the ship to do what he wanted, but it was difficult. They were incredibly outnumbered and unprepared for the attack. 

Luke could feel the ship failing, falling back toward the planet they had just left. They were going to crash right into its surface. 

Another shot rocked the ship and this time Luke did go flying sideways, knocking into the cockpit wall and banging his head and shoulder painfully on the way down. 

“Luke!” His father called, fear coloring his words in a way Luke had never heard before. 

“Sir!” Piett yelled. 

There was another  _ bang!  _ as the ship was hit again. Alarms were blaring. Luke was being tossed around the floor like a pebble in a sandstorm. With his hands still in binders, he couldn’t even use his arms to steady himself. After another hit tipped them again, Luke rolled sideways and smacked his head again on something hard he couldn’t see. 

This time, he was left dazed from the ringing in his ears. Stars blurred in front of his vision. Distantly, Luke could hear the alarms still blaring and the sounds of space battle, but his head was full of cotton. 

The ship was crashing, that much was evident. He wondered idly if he was about to die. 

His father wrapped himself more protectively around Luke at that thought, to an almost crushing degree. 

Everything was too much, too loud. 

The last thing Luke registered before he lost consciousness was something large and solid curling up around him. 

And then the ship hit the planet and Luke was lost.


	2. II.

II.

Admiral Piett sat up and rubbed his head. It pounded after being smacked against the control board of the ship, but he counted his lucky stars. He didn’t seem to be grievously injured anywhere that he could immediately feel. That crash landing could have been so much worse.

He looked out the windscreen and was met with the thick foliage of the planet they had only recently departed from. 

_ Great,  _ Piett thought,  _ Lord Vader is going to love this.  _

But with that thought, Piett paused, realizing that it was completely silent. He couldn’t hear the ominous respirator whooshing in and out, a constant reminder of its owner’s presence.

Piett stood up, looking around the cockpit. Lord Vader and Skywalker were both absent. 

_ Oh stars,  _ Piett thought,  _ please let me not have killed either of them with my landing.  _

He scrambled from his copilot seat and stumbled through the ship's damaged halls; loose wires were hanging, sparking dangerously; panels had been pulled away in the planet’s atmosphere, exposing the inside of the ship to the outside elements; in the back part of the ship gas was pouring out of a broken pipe, flooding the air with an unbreathable element. Piett coughed and kept moving, listening carefully as he frantically searched for his missing superior and his prisoner. 

Piett made it to the passenger lounge with still no sign of them and that’s when his panic really started rising. How was he going to explain to the Emperor that he had lost his right hand man, the Imperial forces most valuable asset. 

He was busy spiralling when he noticed it; the loading ramp had been completely ripped open and off its hinges. Which, even he could admit his landing was a little rough, but that level of damage seemed excessive. Piett cautiously approached the massive whole in the side of the ship and peered out into the wild. 

Piett was both relieved and even more confused about what he saw.

Lord Vader was kneeling in the dirt, curled protectively around Skywalker, who laid prone in the grass. Vader had one hand cradling the boy’s face while the other rested lightly on his chest. 

Neither one spoke, and Piett had to stare really hard at Skywalker’s chest to see if the boy was even breathing. Piett considered it lucky for both of them that the boy’s chest moved shallowly up and down. 

“Admiral Piett,” Vader spoke, low and dangerous, “I require your assistance.”   


Piett immediately broke out of his trance, jumping down the few feet where the loading ramp normally was. 

“Anything, my Lord.” 

He crossed the small distance to where Vader and Skywalker were, kneeling in the unoccupied spot on Skywalker’s other side. 

Up close, Skywalker looked worse and better than Piett expected after all the tumbling around he did during the attack. 

There was a large, bleeding cut on the side of his head that turned his golden hair a rusty brown and matted it to his face. Skywalker also had the beginnings of what looked like a black eye, and a split lip to match. The beige fatigues he wore were dirty with both forest grime and blood from a location Piett couldn’t quite place and as Piett finished his examination the boy from head to toe, he noticed that his left leg was bent at an odd angle that screamed wrongness 

It seemed Skywalker had not come through the crash as unscathed as Piett and Vader had. Piett hoped that wouldn’t be held against him. 

“Admiral, I need you to hold Luke's shoulders,” Vader explained, shuffling down to kneel more by the boy’s legs. “I am going to set the bone and although he is unconscious now, he will most certainly feel it and fight to move. It is imperative you hold him down to prevent further injury.” 

Piett nodded. 

“Yes, sir,” he answered, reaching over to place both hands on Skywalker’s narrow shoulders, preparing to put his whole weight on the boy if necessary. Piett wasn’t the biggest of guys in the galaxy, but thankfully, Skywalker wasn’t either. 

Vader hovered both leather clad hands over the boy’s legs and with no warning, he gave a push and the leg gave a sickening pop as it’s wayward bone snapped back into place. 

An anguished scream split the air and Piett immediately looked down at the boy who was struggling in the grass to be free of whatever was hurting him. Skywalker’s eyes had opened and the famous sky blue irises searched wildly for the source of his pain. Piett pushed down with all his weight, trying to keep the boy steady, but Skywalker was stronger than he looked and it took everything in Piett to keep the screaming boy from sitting up. 

“Commander Skywalker, at ease!” He tried, but the boy was beyond hearing him. 

Piett didn’t have to struggle for long, however, because as soon as Vader had finished stabilizing and wrapping the leg, he pushed Piett away in the Force and moved back up the boy’s upper half, wrapping Skywalker up in his arms and attempting to sooth his pain. 

He cradled him in his lap, pushing the boy’s hair away from his face in a repetitive, comforting motion that had Piett wondering if he should be looking at this seemingly intimate moment.

“Shh, Luke,” Vader said, softly. It was a tone Piett had never heard his superior use before. “You are okay, little one. You’re okay.”

Slowly, Skywalker began to settle. He no longer struggled in Vader’s arms, but instead seemed to attempt to tuck himself more securely into them. Vader allowed it, adjusting his hold so that the boy was sitting more securely in his lap. 

“Fa-Fath-” Skywalker choked out, coughing lightly as he cleared his airway. 

“I am here. Do not fear, I am by your side,” Vader reassured the boy.

Again, Piett wondered if he was allowed to be watching this or if it was going to end with him being strangled to death for witnessing his superior in a moment of compassion, something Piett was sure no one else in the galaxy had ever seen before. 

After a few minutes, the boy was soothed once more into unconsciousness, but this time it seemed more like a light, restorative sleep. Vader continued to hold the boy, stroking his face and hair, seemingly tracing his features like he was drinking the curves of their shape. Piett wondered, briefly, if this was the first time Vader had been so close to the boy without him trying to escape or fight him. He smothered those thoughts, it was not his business to wonder about the relationship between Vader and Skywalker. If Vader could hear his thoughts, he’d be dead before he could say TIE fighter. 

It was almost an uncomfortably long time before Vader stood, Skywalker in his arms and moved toward a nearby tree. He set Skywalker down gently so that he was resting with his back against the trunk. Vader arranged the boy’s limbs so carefully, like that of a doll’s, so that he was comfortable. Then, he did something that surprised Piett more than anything else so far: he unhooked his cape and laid it over the boy, like he was tucking a child in for a nap.

With one last look at the boy, Vader spun on his heel and turned back to Piett who scrambled to stand at attention. 

“Sir,” he said as Vader came to tower above him. It was odd to see the man without his cape. Piett tried not to stare. 

“Everything usable in our ship appears to have been destroyed,” Vader said, annoyance coloring his tone and Piett tried not to wince at the accusation since he was the one to actually land the ship. “Because of this, I will be traveling to Skywalker’s X-Wing to retrieve his emergency long range comlink transmission and make contact with Devastator to arrange for an extraction. Luckily, I can sense we are not far from it. You are to stay here and watch over Skywalker.”

Piett nodded, “Yes, my Lord.”   


Vader just stared at him, and Piett tried not to sweat under the scrutiny, before Vader nodded in satisfaction and stalked to the forest’s edge. 

He stopped just before he disappeared and tilted his helmet just enough for Piett to know he was addressing him. 

“Admiral Piett, if something should happen to him before I return, just know you will suffer the same fate.”   


Piett gulped. “Yes, my Lord.”

And with that, Vader was gone. 

Piett slumped in relief once he was out of sight. 

“He’s always so dramatic,” a soft voice to Piett’s left said, startling him. 

He spun to see Skywalker awake in his position against the tree. He attempted to move, but winced immediately and Piett sprung into action, grabbing the med kit Vader had used to bind the boy’s leg and moving to sit beside him. 

“Please don’t try and move, Commander Skywalker. Lord Vader may be dramatic, but he always fulfills those promises,” Piett said, putting a hand on Skywalker’s shoulder.

Luke just huffed out a tired sounding laugh and then winced again, his brow furrowing. 

“Yeah that sounds like him,” the boy said, confusing Piett, before continuing, “what’s the damage, Piett?”

“Well, Commander-,”

“Luke, please. We don’t have to be so formal with each other anymore. I think we’re past that.”

Piett paused before continuing. He had no idea how the boy could continuously be so lighthearted and earnest, but it was surprisingly refreshing. 

“Well, Luke,” he started again, “From what I can tell, the worst of it appears to be a broken leg, but Lord Vader set it so it should heal fine.”

“Hmm” Luke hummed, closing his eyes again.

“You have a litany of other less serious injuries- a split lip, a cut on your shoulder that will likely require stitches, a black eye…” Piett eyed the head wound and nervously shook Luke’s shoulder until the boy opened his eyes again. “A head wound and a concussion, I would assume. If you could stay awake until Lord Vader returns, I would be most grateful, uh, Luke.”

Luke smiled at him shly. “Sure. We wouldn't my father to fulfill his promise and give you a matching head wound.”

Piett froze. 

Father?   


Suddenly, so many puzzle pieces slid into place, the final clues Piett had been missing that finished the entire picture he had been staring confusedly at since the boy dropped onto their rader after the Death Star fiasco. 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Luke asked innocently, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Piett. 

“No,” Piett rasped out, “no, I did not.”

“He trusts you a lot. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it.”

_ Mention it _ , Piett thought incredulously. Like it was merely a simple statement one might off-handedly mention, not a galaxy shifting secret that asked just as many questions as it answered. 

Was he even allowed to know it? Would Vader kill him now that he was privy to information that Piett was sure was a secret only a handful of people in the galaxy knew. 

“I’d ask you to stop worrying about whether Vader was going to kill you for knowing our relationship, but I’m not sure I could,” Luke cut in, seemingly reading his mind. “I believe he was waiting until we were firmly back on the Devastator. I just spoiled the surprise.”

Again, he spoke with a levity that Piett couldn’t understand. 

“I’ve worked with your, uh, father for years. He never- I didn’t expect-” Piett was at a loss for words. 

Another stone dropped suddenly in his stomach. 

“The Death Star…” 

Luke shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, but he didn’t help me make that shot. That’s actually when he learned of my existence for the first time. He thought I died with my mother before I was even born.”

“Oh,” Piett said, stupidly. So Vader hadn’t raised the boy… then who-?

Luke just smiled. “I can’t answer all your questions, Admiral. I know my father trusts you above all of his other men, but I still don’t know what information he’ll want you to have.”

Piett just nodded. That was fine by him. The less he knew, the less likely he was to be killed because he knew too much. 

“It must have been a shock for him,” Piett said, “most parents biggest surprise is whether their child will be a boy or a girl when they are born, but Darth Vader’s big reveal was that his son turned out to be a rebel.”

Luke looked at him for a moment before a cheek splitting smile spread across his face and he laughed loudly, clutching at his stomach in pain as he did. 

Piett let out a sigh of relief that his joke had not offended the boy. 

Luke looked at him with mirth in his eyes, “I knew I liked you.”

Without reason, something warm bloomed in his chest. “Despite our differences in opinions, I believe I am starting to like you, too, Commander.”

Piett unzipped the medical kit and pulled out an antibacterial wipe. The least he could do was clean some of the blood off the boy’s face. If he looked less injured when Vader returned perhaps he wouldn't be so angry about Piett knowing his biggest secret. 

“Do you mind?” Piett asked before beginning.

Luke shook his head, and then winced. “Not at all. I would do it myself, but I’m not sure I can lift my arms.”

Piett looked alarmed, but the boy just chuckled. “I’m exhausted, is what I meant. I know you asked me to stay awake, but I’m afraid I might drift off soon.”

His eyes were slipping closed and his words slurred together toward the end. Piett panicked.

“So,” he said loudly, trying to keep the boy awake and talking, “did you always know your father was Lord Vader.”

Luke snorted, his eyes opening marginally. “No, I found out after the Bespin mishap.”

Piett remembered that. Mostly how angry and unsettled Lord Vader had been when he returned to the fleet. He assumed it had been because Skywalker escaped, but it always seemed a bit more than that.

“I’m sure it was quite a surprise.”

“He cut off my hand in a duel and then told me he was my father,” Luke replied, bluntly. “So, yeah, you could say that.” 

Piett was shocked. He remembered the way Vader cradled the unconscious boy in his arms, like a precious, fragile thing he was luckily to be holding. That interaction made more sense to Piett now too. It  _ was  _ likely the first time Vader had been able to hold his son at close proximity. 

“My father used to hit us with a mildly eltro-charged pattle when my brothers and I misbehaved,” Piett shared, as he wiped at the drying blood on Luke’s forehead. He didn’t know why he shared that, he hadn’t told anyone that, ever. 

“I can’t imagine you being a mischievous child, Admiral,” Luke replied. 

It was Piett’s turn to laugh. “I was raised on Axxila. There was little less to do besides get into trouble.”

“You were raised in the Outer Rim?” Luke asked, cracking an eye to look at him. Piett nodded. 

“Yes.”

“It seems that’s another thing we have in common. I was raised on Tatooine.” 

Piett startled. “Tatooine? How did you end up with the Rebellion? It is more likely that you would grow up to work for the Hutts than either with the Rebellion or the Empire.”

“It’s a long story,” Luke explained, closing his eyes again. He seemed to be holding something back, and Piett respected his privacy. “But, ultimately, it was just the Rebellion that found me first. I would have joined the Imperial Academy if it got me off that floating rock quicker. Although I’m happy it was the will of the Force that landed me with the Rebels first, I like their color scheme better.”

Piett choked out a laugh that was more out of shock than humor. It was incredible that Vader’s,  _ Darth Kriffing Vader’s,  _ son could be so openly anti-Imperial. Shocking was a better word, actually. Piett could see the propaganda headlines around the galaxy now if anyone found out:  _ If Darth Vader’s Son Wants To Be A Rebel, Why Don’t You? _

“Does your father like that you disagree so heavily with everything he’s dedicated his life to?” Piett asked, hotly. 

But Luke didn’t seem offended. In fact, his lips twitched upward in an almost smile. “He knows my opinions. It’s a subject I’m sure we’ll continue to debate.”

Well, if anyone could debate Darth Vader on morality and ethics, it would be the son he’d chased around the galaxy for years in hopes of bringing home. 

They lapsed into comfortable silence after that, Piett finished cleaning Luke up and securing a bacta patch to the few injuries he could spot. He stayed away from his leg, afraid to do anymore harm there. After that, they waited, sitting shoulder to shoulder while Piett shook the boy every few minutes just to make him mumble something unintelligible and then fall back into rest. Piett allowed it. The boy was exhausted and injured, as long as he was still breathing, Piett figured it was alright to let him rest. 

As nightfall came, Piett was antsy for Lord Vader’s return. 

He didn’t have a weapon on him and although the planet seemed almost devoid of dangerous predators during the day, that spoke nothing of its nocturnal life. Both he and Luke would need Lord Vader’s protection should something attack them. 

As if he had summoned him simply by thinking his name, Piett heard a rustling in the trees moments before the black shape of his superior came bounding through the forest and into their space. 

Piett scrambled to stand and salute, but Vader didn’t even regard him. He went straight to Luke’s side, kneeling beside the boy. 

His hands hovered over Luke, like he wasn’t quite sure where he could touch without causing injury and it was new for Piett to see Vader hesitate or be so thoughtful about any living thing’s wellbeing. 

_ It’s his son,  _ his mind supplied. Of course he was going to be careful, if earlier was anything to go by. 

He settled on the boy’s shoulder with one hand and the other cradling Luke’s cheek. 

“Luke,” he said, softly, trying to coax the boy awake. “Luke, wake up.”

Luke barely stirred. 

In a slight alarm, Vader shook him a little more roughly. “Luke,” he said more forcefully.

“He was awake for a while earlier, My Lord,” Piett supplied, trying to be helpful. “We spoke at length before he grew weary. Perhaps he should rest some more.”

Vader turned his full attention on Piett, and Piett tried not to squirm under its intensity. Maybe trying to intervene was a bad idea. 

“And what did you speak about, Admiral?” Vader asked, but Piett was positive he already knew the answer.

For a brief moment Piett considered lying, but then decided he actually wanted to survive this ordeal and that probably wasn’t the best way to do that. 

_ I know my father trusts you above all of his other men,  _ a gentle voice supplied in his mind. 

How quickly had Piett become entangled in Skywalker affairs. 

“Commander Skywalker, uh-Luke, revealed to me the nature of your relationship, My Lord,” Piett began, hurriedly. “I did not pry, he offered it freely. He was under the impression that I was to know the information anyway. I am deeply sorry for going behind your back and subject myself to any punishment you see fit.”

Piett looked down, waiting for the invisible hand to wrap around his throat like he had seen so many times before happen to other officers. 

But nothing came. After a full minute of silence, Piett risked looking back up. But Vader wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was looking back at the sleeping boy beside him. Piett waited with baited breath. 

“It seems my kindhearted son has decided to trust you. Gaining his trust is not an easy feat,” Vader said and it sounded like he spoke from experience on that front. “At ease, Admiral, there will be no punishment. You did nothing wrong.” 

Piett released the breath he was unconsciously holding and slumped over, back to the sitting position on Luke’s other side. 

“Were you able to contact the fleet?” Piett asked, changing the subject. 

“Yes,” Vader replied. “They will arrive at first light. You will help me get Luke aboard and to my personal wing undetected.”

“Undetected?” Piett asked.

“Yes, Admiral,” Vader confirmed, sternly. “I do not wish my son’s presence to be known yet by the crew. There is much to do first.”

That was the kind of ominous statement one was used to hearing when they served under Vader, but still it filled Piett’s stomach with dread. 

He watched as Vader settled in beside the boy, pulling him close so that he rested against his shoulder and not the tree. 

“You may sleep,” Vader said. “I will take the first watch.”

Piett wasn’t sure he could sleep with all of the thoughts swirling around in his head, but rested his back against the tree anyway, close enough to Luke that they were almost touching. Vader pulled Luke closer, mindful of his injuries. 

Piett closed his eyes and listened to the whooshing of Vader’s respirator as he willed his mind to quiet. 


	3. III.

III.

Vader was only in a light meditation when he felt the gentle pressure on his shoulder lift and begin to move. 

Luke was waking up. 

Vader stayed very still, wanting to see what his son would do when he realized he was resting on his father. Pulling the boy close to him last night was done in a moment of parental weakness and latent fear over the boy’s wellbeing. 

He was self aware enough to admit he had been scared for the boy. After all he had unfairly lost over the years, he did not put it past the universe to take his precious child from him moments after he finally had him at his side. He was used to tragedy.

But, Vader had refused to let that happen, throwing himself around the boy as the ship crashed roughly into the planet’s surface to act as a protective barrier as they smashed around the ship’s interior and then carrying him to fresh air after it was all over. 

It pained him to leave the boy behind with his trusted Admiral Piett while he went in search of the boy’s X-wing, but it was a necessary cost and Luke was at the forefront of mind the entire time he was gone. 

Relief had never felt so sweet as when they were reunited again.

Now, if only Luke would open his eyes and Vader could release his tension that coiled low in his stomach every moment that his eyes were closed. 

After some difficulty waking up, Vader felt Luke’s presence in the Force burn brightly enough that he knew the boy was fully awake. And strangely, he didn’t fling himself away from Vader in disgust. Vader considered this progress. 

“I know you’re awake,” Luke said, his voice raspy. “I’m sure you can tell when I’m awake, but I know when you are, too. Your presence in the Force gives you away.”  
Vader was startled momentarily, but didn’t show it. “How astute of you, my son. You are observant.”

He turned his mask to look at his son and found the boy’s eyes already pinning him to the spot. 

The red of his eye lens distorted the color, but Vader was sure they were as blue as another’s color, long repressed. Something twisted his already mangled heart and he struggled to reign it in. 

“How are you feeling,” he asked to change the subject. 

Luke shrugged then winced. Vader felt his protectiveness flare. 

“Not too bad. My leg hurts the worst, everything else is second to that.” He screwed up his nose before continuing, “except my head, I think I have migraine.”

“You likely have a concussion, my son. It is to be expected that your head will be sore. If you would have returned to your seat when I asked the first time, you might not have been so injured.”

Luke scowled at him. “If my hands were unbound then I might have been able to catch myself rather than slam into every hard, metal part of the ship like a magnet.”

He had Vader there. But, to be fair, Vader hadn’t expected to be attacked by pirates. That hadn’t been on his list of worries at the time. Vader had been distracted, too busy basking in his son’s electric presence. 

Sort of like he was now. 

Vader shifted, helping Luke to sit up on his own. The boy was still severely injured, so Vader handled him with care, scared to add to the boy’s list of injuries. He wasn’t used to being careful anymore, he was a little rusty at it. 

He placed his hand behind Luke’s back and helped him rest more comfortably against the tree, beside a still sleeping Admiral Piett. Luke was out of breath just from the effort of sitting up. 

“Do we happen to have any water,” Luke asked, wiping some sweat from his brow. 

“Yes,” Vader replied, gathering the canteen he had brought from Luke’s X-wing along with his Rebel Alliance issued emergency food bars and med kit (just in case). 

He handed Luke the canteen who eagerly took a few long sips from the bottle before screwing the lid back on and setting it down. 

“Drink more,” Vader insisted. He was sure Luke needed it. It had been over 24 hours since he had arrived on this planet and hadn’t had a single ounce of nourishment since. 

But Luke shook his head. “Admiral Piett will need some when he wakes up.”

Vader was slightly annoyed. In his mind, his son’s health came first and foremost. “He is fine. Drink.”  
Luke frowned at him. “No. It’s okay, I can share. I need less water than most, anyway, growing up on Tatooine will do that to a person.”

Vader was flung back into a memory. 

_ “Anakin, you need to drink more water, I haven't seen you take as much as a sip since we arrived and your supply is still full,” Obi-wan chastised him as they sat by the fire. They were on a camping-style assignment in the Mid-Rim.  _

_ “I’m saving it,” the 12-year-old-him replied stubbornly. “What if we can’t find more? On Tatooine we say that to waste water is a sin.” _

_ But Obi-wan just shook his head. “This planet is covered with freshwater lakes and rivers. We have plenty of water, now drink,” Obi-wan said, shoving Anakin’s canteen into his hand.  _

Vader shoved the memory down so forcefully it made him take a step back. Luke looked at him with poorly concealed worry, and embarrassment and annoyance flared deep within Vader. 

“If you are going to be stubborn about the water, eat this at least,” he said, tossing Luke a ration bar. “And there is no need to split it in half to share with the Admiral, there are plenty more.”

Luke took it without complaint and ate it dutifully, if not reluctantly. He managed to eat the whole thing, but refused a second. Vader wanted to insist he ate more, but Luke was looking a little unwell and Vader decided not to force it, lest it all come back up and all the nutrients he got into the boy was wasted. 

“You don’t need to hover,” Luke said. “Just, sit next to me, or something, while we wait for your ship. Your pacing is hurting my head.”   


Vader hesitated in his movements. He hadn’t even realized that he was pacing. He could read from Luke’s presence that he was embarrassed to be asking, and Vader’s chest constricted at the idea that Luke wanted him for comfort when less than a day ago he tried to shoot him with a blaster. 

Slowly, Vader lowered himself beside the boy again, farther away than last night, but still close enough that their shoulders brushed. 

“Thank you for letting me use your cape as a blanket,” Luke said after a moment. Vader could see him rubbing the heavy fabric between his fingers. 

“It was nothing.” He answered.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Luke replied. He worried his already split lip between his teeth and Vader bit his own tongue to stop himself from snapping at the boy to stop before he reopened the wound. “Maybe you won't be such a shit dad.”

It was an insult and statement of hope at the same time, and was enough to startle a laugh from Vader. He looked at Luke's face and saw the same amusement in his son’s eyes. 

_ “Stop worrying, Ani,” a sweet voice said. “You’re going to be a wonderful father.” _

Vader ached.

Well, he hadn’t been so far, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trying. He wasn’t sure he could be better, but he wasn’t one known for giving up.

A crease appeared between Luke’s eyebrows. 

“Are you going to take me to the Emperor?” Luke asked, softly. 

Vader paused. He really didn’t know. Where his loyalty to his Master had never been clouded before, a thick fog now lay between them. There was only one thing for certain:

“He will destroy you,” Vader said, not unkindly, just matter of factly. “You must train to be stronger.”

“With you?” Luke asked.

“With me.”

Luke seemed to be thinking hard. Vader didn’t pry. He let the boy untangle his thoughts without interruption or intrusion. 

At last he sighed. “I’ll train with you, but not in the Dark Side-”

Vader’s anger flared. “It is only through the Dark Side that you will be strong enough to withstand the Emperor’s-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Luke said, sternly. Vader stopped, impressed by his son’s gall. “You don’t have to train me as a Jedi, I know you won’t. But there have to be elements of the Force that belong to neither side. It can’t only exist in those two forms, that’s a reductive view of the Force I believe.”

Vader thought about this compromise, a little surprised he hadn’t thought of it sooner. It was a much more attractive offer for both of them. And his son was right, there was much he could teach him that belonged solely to the Force without tipping into Light or Dark. 

It would be tricky. But, it could work. 

“Deal,” Vader said at last, and Luke’s shoulders slumped in relief. 

“Okay, then I won’t fight you when we leave here,” Luke said. And that settled something in Vader’s soul, too, to know his son wouldn’t be trying to escape at every turn. He would be by his side where he belonged. 

On Luke’s otherside, Piett was slowly awakening. He looked baffled a moment by his surroundings, but quickly remembered where he was and hurried to sit up straight and salute Vader. 

“My Lord, apologies for oversleeping,” he said, quickly, but Vader just raised a hand to stop any further unnecessary apologies. 

“At ease, Admiral. It is fine.”

Luke reached beside him and picked up the canteen. 

“Here. I saved you some water,” he said, handing Piett the canteen.

Piett looked between father and son, seemingly trying to work out if this was a test.

“Drink the water, Admiral. My son saved it for you, it is the least you can do.”

After that, Piett drank the water with no complaint. Vader decided he was glad Luke told Piett about their relationship. It was one more person on their side everything finally fell into place. 

But that day was ages away. For now, Vader was content to sit, basking in the glow of his son’s irresistible aura and thanking the Force for it’s undeserved gift. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I had a lot of fun writing this! :)
> 
> -Mara (@laheyy on tumblr)


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